We're Not in Kansas Anymore (Real life x Dragon age)
by Maleficarum
Summary: Phoebe hates her life; she seeks refuge in her favorite video game. What happens when she's transported there, or when she's set up for a dangerous and monumental task, aside from the Blight? (Slightly AU and coarse language at points. summary sucks i know.)
1. Chapter 1: Witch with a B

I'm a witch.

Well, that's what Jessica said, but I don't think she actually said 'witch'. I think she meant the word that rhymes with witch. Starts with a b. Anyway, Jessica called me a witch with a b. She had enough of me, I think; enough of my complaining and my moping about. You can't blame me though. My whole family's dead. Mother's gone. Dad's gone. Sisters and brothers are gone. Everyone is gone. My only family is somewhere in Europe, raising geese and cattle or some shit. I've been bounced through Foster homes faster than you can imagine. The Foster system cares about my education, though, as they seem to keep me focused around my home town where I'm currently diving through high school. Trying to get to the end, but I can't breathe. It's like I'm drowning.

I hate school. I hate Jessica too. She was my friend. Then she started being a witch with a b. She became more obsessed with her ex-boyfriend and the teachers and her new friends. She didn't care much for me anymore. I was the weirdo. I shouted out random things. I made her laugh. But she hated whenever I tried to be funny to her. I would post a picture of my favorite band on her page and she would flip out, even if I said that the post was from _me _and not _her_. She would blame me for the loss of three whole followers.

When that happened, I stormed out of her house. I didn't care if the foster house was four miles away. I could walk.

But yeah, things like that really made Jessica hate me. She would try to force her pretty girl logic on me and make me buy expensive clothes. I was happy with my Target jeans and Superstore shirts. I was happy with what I had. I didn't need expensive clothes to fill the null void in my soul: the void that would be filled with a foster family, if they weren't all a witch with a b.

So, as you can tell, my life sucks. I hate everything. I'm depressed, I think; suicidal too. I cut, like any well respected enemy of the universe. Jessica knows and threatens to tell my fake family about it. I beg her, saying that I will go shopping with her in the makeup section for as long as she wants if she just won't tell. She doesn't, and I'm glad. But I know that she probably will now that we've had a fight.

In present time, now, I storm into my house and throw my back pack on the floor. Everything has gone wrong. Not only have Jessica and I fought, but she will probably tell the family about my issues. There's that, and my crush hates me. I'm smart, and get good grades. He's dumb and on the Football team. Typical scenario, as you can imagine. He said that if I did his English essay, he would take me to Prom. I was an idiot and went with it. Apparently I didn't do 'good enough' and he got kicked off the team. Now he blames me, even though I finished it and he just forgot to turn it in. My only hope of having any happiness in my life is crushed again. Without a crush and friends, what sort of person can I be? I can't be happy. I've tried to go through life with a smile. But I just…can't anymore.

I wished I died when my family did. I wish I was the one who went on the boat. I wish I hadn't been sick and stayed at home. I wish that they were alive and I wasn't in so much pain without them.

Usually, when I feel like I hate the world, I slice my wrists. Just to release the pain. It's the only solstice in a world full of so much anger and hate. But I've got a new help these days. It's a video game. I know, stereotypical suicidal teen in skinny jeans and band shirts plays video games. What a shocker. But I don't even care, because I don't jam out to Call of Duty or to Skyrim. COD isn't even fun, in my opinion. My game to play is Dragon Age. My Foster Mother, Judy, agreed the other day that because of my good marks, I deserved some sort of reward. So I asked for a video game. She was a firm believer in the pretty girl code, but with enough begging she got it for me. I had seen it, the last of its stock in the corner of the store. It was old, I guess. Only a few years, but nobody really wanted it as judged by the lack of consumer awareness to the lonely little video game in the corner of the shop. I did, though. And once I started to play it, I fell in love.

The atmosphere, the mediocre graphics…everything about it I loved. I played for hours, making new characters at my whim and trying to get all the trophies I could. I found that I didn't need any blades to make me feel better, when I could just immerse myself in the game and forget all about the world. Today would be a good day to play it.

I opened the case and stuck the disk in the console. The screen blackened and the loading screen began. Bioware, oh how I missed you. My fingers itched at the buttons just as the menu screen came on. I toggled to start new game and got ready to indulge into my Warden, Nela, from the city elf origin. I played for some time and got really far. I didn't save because I was so god damn immersed. I barely even heard the thunder rolling outside, either. Just as I finished Ostagar, there was a crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder. All the lights in the house went out, as did the PS3. The moment my Warden and her companions killed the Ogre, the screen shut to black and there was silence.

"Oh, no, no, fuck." I whispered, dropping the controller and standing up. Rain was pounding against the window and the silence was broken. I pawed around my side for my phone and flipped the screen. It was five o'clock. I had been playing since two. What happened to my foster parents coming home? Foster siblings come home from school? Where were they?

"Judy? Cas?" I called out. No one responded. I cursed again and flew down the stairs, heading for the kitchen to find some spare candles or something. I padded into the cold kitchen and pawed through one of the drawers. I found a few candles, the tea lights, and lit them with a lighter. With only a small beacon of light, I placed the candles beside me on the counter. It was already so dark. I could barely see without the lights. I flipped my phone open again and dialed Judy's number. The phone buzzed and buzzed but there was no response: just her voicemail. I dialed everyone else's number, but no one responded. I was getting scared now. Were they just late? Traffic? After school things that I forgot about?

"Fuck me, fuck me." I muttered, pacing in the kitchen. Suddenly my phone rang. In relief I answered it without looking at the dialer.

"Hello? Judy?" I asked into the phone. There was silence on the other end. A bit of breathing, but that was it. "Hello?"

Suddenly there was a strange chanting sound on the other end and humming. I pulled the phone away from me and looked at the display. It was unknown name and number. I sighed in disappointment.

"Alright, nice joke. Who is it? Jessica. If that's you, I fucking swear," I laughed, but the chanting continued. This was getting too weird. "Okay, creeper. See ya." I hung up and the chanting ended. I smiled and tucked my phone in my back pocket. What now? I didn't want to do my homework, because I didn't feel the need too. I just wanted to play Dragon Age. Stupid power outage.

Just as I turned to leave the kitchen, I saw a shadow in the forest behind the house. The shadow was in front of the trees, standing and watching me. The stranger had one hand out, pointing to me. A chill ran up my spine as I watched them. It was a woman, I think. Her hair was blowing in the wind. While I wasn't one to give in to the horror movie cliché and go investigate the creepy shadow, something overcame me and I had no choice but to. I slipped out the back door and onto the cement ground. I looked out and saw the woman was still pointing at me. A strike of lightning lit up the scene and I saw that her clothes looked strangely like that of a medieval commoner. Her hair was grey and her eyes a very, very yellowy yellow. It almost looked like Flemeth. But that couldn't be. Flemeth was a fictional character. Pixels. She couldn't be in my backyard, pointing at me.

My phone rang again. It was the unknown number. With shaking hands, I answered it. The chanting continued from where I left off. Another chill raised the hair on my neck and I backed up, just wanting to get back into the house. This was way too scary. I turned to twist the knob but the door was locked. Oh, shit. Judy had thought it brilliant that she put an automatic lock on the back door because of the increase on home break ins. I completely forgot about it. Now I'm locked out; in the rain; with crazy Flemeth looking woman.

Suddenly, the chanting from my phone was coming from behind me. Oh fuck. She was probably behind me. Fuck. Fuckity Fuck.

I turned slowly, readying myself to run. However, she wasn't there. I exhaled in relief, but then in the reflection of a mirror I saw that she was _now_ behind me.

I whirled around and saw her hand, reaching for my face. I screamed and ran backwards onto the grass. I slipped on the wet ground as she moved forward, still pointing at me. I jumped up to my feet and ran as fast as I could through the wet grass and into the forest. It was a stupid, typical movie mistake. I didn't care however, as all that mattered to me was getting away from this crazy lady.

I dodged the trees and the stumps and unknown debris. My feet were moving faster than I ever could imagine. The foliage was blurring beside me. Just as I thought I was getting far, a gnarled root slipped over my foot and I tripped forward, catapulting into the dead, wet leaves. They stuck to my hair and clothes. Mud soaked my clothes, as did the rain. I felt a sharp pain in my ankle. Did I twist it?

"HELP!" I screamed, deciding that it was my only way out. If I screamed, maybe someone could hear me. "HELP ME OH GOD HELP ME PLEASE!"

I looked over my shoulder and saw the yellow eyed woman staring straight at me right beside me. A small smirk grew on her face. "There is no god." She said and pressed her hand onto my forehead. There was a burning pain, and then everything went black.

* * *

A/N: Well, while I don't suppose you happen to be another mage is on hiatus, I'm doing this story. I just am having issues trying to get further with the other story. I know what's going to happen, I just can't freaking figure out how to write it out. Ugh. Anyway, have fun with this little bitty story.


	2. Chapter 2: Still Got Legs

God I hope I wasn't dead.

Wow, that's not hypocritical of me or anything. Hours ago I was lamenting my existence, and it's only once a creepy Flemeth lady knocks me out that I value my life.

Speaking of which…what happened? Or rather, am I even alive?

I willed my eyes to open and immediately regretted it and shut them. The harsh sun threatened to burn my retinas. I groggily raise a hand, (still got hands) and put it over my eyes. I open them and sit up slowly. My head is pounding and my body aches. Waves of nausea roll over me, but I ignore them.

I sound like a pregnant woman.

Slowly, I stand to my feet (still got legs) and stretch. I look around, avoiding the angry sun glare. It appears to be the same forest as the one behind my house. _And it's not suddenly stormy anymore_, I thought as I plucked leaves out of my hair. _That storm was strange, and oddly impromptu._

Suddenly, I hear the sound of a twig snapping. I dive back down on my knees (painfully) and crawl as fast as I can to a nearby bush. The twigs continue to snap and crack as footsteps echo into the small spot I woke up in. A tall man walks in. He's wearing…oh you've got to be kidding me.

He's wearing armor: chainmail, even. The same stuff you see in Merlin or the Holy Grail. He's even got a sword on his back and a shield. Funny, seeing as the logo nailed to the shield sort of reminds me of the one that Alistair is equipped with in the beginning of the game.

Then it hits me. This guy has blondish hair and eyes that are browny-greenish. Nobody has blondish hair that is style in that sort of way matched with the eyes: nobody except Alistair of course.

But Alistair wasn't real. He was a character from the Dragon Age universe; a pile of pixels; words on a screen. He wasn't real. Hell, he _couldn't_ be real! The only time that characters get to become real people is at cosplay events and in fan fiction stories! Either I was dreaming a sick dream or this was a stupid joke. I mean, this Alistair looked nothing like the digital one I was so accustomed to romancing. This one was…real! His hair looked real, his face looked real. Even the bit of stubble on his _face_ looked real.

I have to be dreaming. I have to be. I'll just pinch myself to be sure though. Then I'll wake up!

I pinch myself on the arm and wince, fidgeting and snapping a lightweight branch and shifting some leaves loudly.

Fuck.

Alistair whirled around, his sword quickly drawn from its sheath and aimed at the tree. He grabbed his shield and held it in front of him.

"Hello," He called. I bit my lip and cursed silently, holding my breath and being a master at multitasking. "Is anyone there?"

I wanted to sigh romantically. His voice was still Steve Valentine's. At least there was a silver lining to this really sad and really not fake dream.

"Come out, right now!" He shouted. I half considered it.

"Tis probably a rabbit, you blundering fool!" Morrigan's easily recognizable voice rang through my ears as she stepped over the gnarly root I tripped over and joined Alistair. Yep; she was the same as Alistair. She was clearly real. There was no denying it. Dirt was even caked on Morrigan's knees and elbows. This was too cool.

"I'm not a fool! And that's probably not a rabbit. Rabbits don't hide in bushes." Alistair defended himself. Morrigan simply scoffed.

"You're right, Alistair. Rabbits do not hide in foliage. They plot the demise of humans in plush armchairs in front of cozy fires."

Alistair darkened, "I think you're being sarcastic. You are, aren't you?"

"Ah. So the **ex**-templar has a brain, does he? Or what's left of one, it seems. Did the lyrium gnaw at the empty cavity in your head?" Morrigan cocked out a hip and placed a hand on it. Alistair glowered.

"You are a mean, lying witch. And I'm only saying witch for personal reasons." He pouted. I wanted to jump up and say, 'hey dude, I used that like an hour ago! That's my joke!'

"And you are a stupid, idiotic man. Glad we've reached an understanding." Morrigan remarked, earning another look of annoyance from Alistair. The sexual tension between the two was so adorable. While I wasn't one who shipped Morrigan and Alistair, there was no doubt that the two of them either had feelings for each other, or just masked their sibling-like love with words of hate and spite. It was all just so adorable; I couldn't help but let out a giggle. Both jerked their heads in my direction.

Fuck.

"I may be an idiot, but I know rabbits don't giggle." Alistair steadied his sword, leveling it at the bush.

"So you agree you're an idiot? He has made a breakthrough! Call off the Blight!" Morrigan joked in her most sarcastic way. Alistair made a noise.

"That is not what I— oh, never mind. Just set the damn bush on fire so we can see what's in it."

Morrigan gave Alistair another snide smirk. "So quick are you to slaughter an innocent rabbit. Or if not a rabbit, then destroy some beautiful…leaves."

Alistair crossed his arms. "Just do it." He muttered. Morrigan shrugged and raised her arms, fire spitting out of her fingertips.

I decided it was now or never. Move now and risk getting minor burns. Move later and be roasted alive. I jumped to my feet and held my hands over my head just before any more fire could come out.

"WAIT, DON'T!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Alistair and Morrigan gasped. Alistair's gasp morphed into a loud and beautiful scream that reminded me of Dean Winchester's. Morrigan followed suit, but rather than having a Dean Winchester scream, she screamed in her Morrigan way.

There was a crashing of branches in the distance. "WATCH OUT IDIOTS!" A voice shrieked through the commotion. There was a sound like wind breaking right beside my ear. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder that slowly spread like a wildfire all over my chest and arms. Warmth seeped from the pain. I slowly looked down and saw that an arrow was lodged in my shoulder; nearly through my heart, as it looked. When I tried to move, it felt like a white, hot knife was twisting into the wound. I gasped in pain. Blood was dripping profusely from the wound.

My muscles tensed as I stared at the one thing that could kill me. I started to shake.

"Oh, FUCK!" I shakily screamed, my Fuck branching out to a general scream and joining with Morrigan and Alistair. Swinging from the tree like a monkey came a small girl. Her ears were pointed, and it was only after I saw her face did I realize that she wasn't a girl, but a full grown woman. Not only was she a full grown woman, but she was my Warden. Nela Tabris.

She beamed, slinging her bow back on her shoulder. When she saw the blood, and that I wasn't darkspawn, her smile faded and her eyes widened. She screamed, joining the three of us. I was exerting all of my energy, as it seemed, because only seconds after, I felt my legs collapse beneath me. My scream was cut off, and just as the tip of the arrow touched the ground and felt like it was lodged deeper into my shoulder (following more white hot pain)…I was out.

* * *

"Is she awake?"

"How should I know? I didn't put the arrow through her CHEST!"

"Don't blame me! You were the ones screaming like little girls! I thought there was a big bad Hurlock or something. Sorry for trying to SAVE YOU!"

"You didn't think to _look_ before _shooting_; perhaps at what you were shooting _at_?"

"Shooting at? I GOT HER PERFECTLY IN THE CHEST. I missed her heart though. Damn."

"DAMN? IS THAT A BAD THING THAT YOU DIDN'T KILL THIS GIRL?"

"YES IT IS. IT MEANS I'M NOT AS GOOD WITH A BOW AND ARROW AS I THOUGHT."

"OH REALLY, THEN? THE NEARLY DEAD BODY BEGS TO DIFFER!"

* * *

After what felt like hours later, I awoke. It was the searing pain in my shoulder that woke me, especially when I rolled on my side. My eyes ripped open and I returned to my original position, the pain thumping through my chest. I gasped in pain, tilting my head back and letting the waves of heat and pain roll through me. I heard the sound of firewood cracking in a fire pit; the smell of a stew. I relaxed a bit at the smells, but found that any sort of movement made my shoulder burn. I winced in agony, clenching my fists and biting my lip.

_Think about something else_, I thought to myself. I thought back to the turn of events that happened before I had an arrow in my shoulder. There was the storm, there was Flemeth, there was Alistair and Morrigan and Nela, and then I am here. _Yes, good_. I told myself. I also had my pants on and my boots. But I didn't have my shirt. Rather than a tank top and a holey sweater, I was decorated in what appeared to be a bandage bandeau. But rather than it being a real bandeau, it was just a bandage wrapped multiple times around my chest. It looped over my shoulder and I spotted dried blood seeping through the bandage. So that part really was real. No doubt did the pain tell me that this wasn't at all a dream.

Suddenly the door creaked open and Morrigan stepped in. She didn't mind me, and paid her attention only to the bubbling stew. She stirred the concoction, paying no mind to me. I cleared my throat and she stiffened, but then relaxed as if she remembered that I was there. Morrigan tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pot and placed the spoon on the mantle of the fire pit. She turned to me and let her hands hang at her sides.

"Oh, you're awake. Mother will be pleased to hear this." Morrigan said, walking to the side of the bed. She studied my bandages for a moment.

"I bet she will be," I murmured and Morrigan gave me a look. "I mean, what's the damage doc?" She gave me another long, quiet look. I sighed but then winced in pain at moving. "HOW AM I?"

Morrigan's eyes lit up and she made an 'ah' sound. "Your wound was somewhat fatal. Any higher and you would have bled out. Any lower and you would be dead. You are lucky you bled just enough." Morrigan looked pleased at herself…in a way. While the news was depressing, I was glad I didn't have cancer or anything.

"What is your name, stranger?" Morrigan suddenly asked. I looked up at her. Should I say my real name? Should I say that my name is Phoebe but not bother with a last name? I didn't even remember my biological one, anyway. And I didn't ever care to use the ones that the Foster family gave me. I could also say my name is some cool, epic heroine one! Like X or Jessamine.

"My name is… oh screw it. My name is Phoebe." I said, smiling. Morrigan raised an eyebrow.

"That is a…strange name; if you do not mind my opinion." Morrigan said and I shrugged (painfully).

"I've heard worse. Anyway…when can I get up and move? And how long was I out?" I asked. Morrigan removed her staff and tapped my shoulder. The pain burst outward through my body and I gasped in pain. But then, it was gone just as fast.

"For one thing, you can get up now. For the other, you were out for a couple of days. You lost a lot of blood." She said and I gaped at her. Two days!? I must have bled a lot. More than I thought, I guess.

"Err…and what of my shirts?" I asked just as she turned to return to the stew. She pointed with one hand toward a chest. One top was my bra, tank-top and sweater. I grabbed the three and held them; waiting for Morrigan to leave so I could change. She was stirring for a while, but then I think she noticed me.

"You can change into your strange clothes; I'm not going to look." Morrigan declared. I still didn't move. She looked at me and sighed, throwing up her hands and leaving. I sighed in relief and quickly de-bandaged myself. The blood was dry but the wound was sour. It had healed over, but there would be a circular scar and a nasty bruise around it. I made a discomforted sigh and slipped my bra on, then tank and then sweater. Once I felt warm enough, I held my chin up and resisted the urge to fangirl all over the hut floor.

I was in the same presence as the video game characters that I so idolized. I was in a video game and I didn't have to deal with the Fosters, or Jessica, or anyone. This was the life. I could learn to like it here. As long as I didn't go home, I was fine staying in Ferelden and assisting my Warden to love and romance Alistair, along with flirting with Zev, and end this Blight.

But I found that the biggest challenge would be to finish the game. The only part that I managed to get to before I got bored of my Wardens was the Circle Quest. I've never done Redcliffe, or Orzammar or anything. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it. Not only that, but the fact that I can't even lift a sword, let alone kill darkspawn. And what if I get hurt? Killed? Infected with the taint? I'd surely die. I'm not a Grey Warden and I'm clearly not a main character.

_Well, we shall see_. I thought to myself as I took a huff of air and opened the door, exiting the hut as a bubble in the stew popped, breaking the silence. I jumped like a chicken and cursed myself. Then I finally exited the hut and was ready to 'somewhat' start my adventure.


	3. Are You Propositioning Me?

a/n **new icon is from dolldivine and is a game called rebel girl (when i said holey sweater i really meant this holey sweater it's literally a hole with fabric and not even a sweater anymore). i would make my own but my tABLET BROKE SO YA KNOW. anyway here we go, chapter whatever ( i forgot to count or something. I'm really tired and it's three a.m)**

* * *

Outside was the scene that I'd seen more than once. The brooding Alistair looking worried as he stares off into the bog. However, Flemeth and Morrigan were nowhere in sight. Nela was off to the side, sharpening a wooden stick with a dagger. I cleared my throat loudly to gather their attention. Nela looked up at me, but didn't give two ducks, and returned to her wood. Alistair, however, was plenty worried.

"Oh, Maker be praised, you're alive!" He breathed, "I thought maybe you- you know, might have..."

"Died?" I inquired. "Nearly. I really hoped I might, though. Dying in a dream usually wakes a person up. Or in the case of Nightmare on Elm..." I trailed off. Alistair's eyes were wide and a complete look of confusion crossed his face. I laughed out loud. Yeah, I'd really have to stop with the Pop Culture References. I'm starting to sound like the Genie from Disney's _Aladdin_.

He coughed, straightening himself. "Ah, right. Uh, I'm Alistair. That one over there is Nela. You must have met Morrigan, seeing as she stormed out of the hut only a moment ago." Alistair introduced. I fought the utter urge to squeal like a little piggy.

"I know. I mean...uh, it's nice to meet you. I'm Phoebe." I extended a nearly shaking hand. Alistair hesitated before shaking it.

"A pleasure to meet you, Phoebe-" Oh how I've waited for him to say my name. Not in a creepy way, but doesn't every fangirl dream? "-Uh...not to assume, but you're not from Ferelden, are you? Not many people here have that bright of red hair...or metal in their face." He gazed at my hair and piercings. I did have to admit, my fire engine (or nearly darker) hair and angel bites were a big contrast to Big Boobied Berthas and Legolas. I'd definitely stand out. And not in the good way.

"Yeah, no. I'm from Canada..." I trailed off, realizing how unrealistic that sounded. Canada probably doesn't exist in the Dragon Age universe!

Alistair's confused expression grew to an unreasonably adorable level. "Canada? I've never - really ever- heard of it."

"Oh, of course not," I waved a hand casually. "It's a really...really...really small island off the coast of...that way," I gestured in some random direction. "Nobody really knows about it except the people who live there...me, and well now you." I was starting to blubber like a twelve year old. A twelve year old fangirling extremely hard over a fictional character standing right in front of her.

Just as Alistair was about to speak, he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me down. (him going down as well) Just when I thought he was going to indulge me in mindless kisses, his face hardened and he stood up. I dusted my clothes off, standing as well. I followed his gaze and saw Nela standing in a knife throwing stance. But of course, the knife wasn't in her hands: it was lodged in a tree almost by my head.

"I think she's lying." Nela said, walking toward us. Alistair groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"Nela, it seems you think everyone is lying." He muttered, staring her down. Nela scoffed and snorted all at once. She reminded me of a flustered bull.

"DO NOT!" She screeched like a moody infant, or a banshee. Maybe the lovechild of both? "YOU ARE TEARING ME APART ALISTAIR!" Nela threw up her hands and stormed off, crying into her leather gloves. Well, my character is a _dull little thing_, as it seems. _Hardly_ any emotion to her.

I twisted toward Alistair. He sighed, crossing his arms.

"Sorry about her. She's just...well, there's no other explanation but to say that it's just the way she acts. Crying about this, serious about that. Angry fits one second, then splurges of love the next. I'm starting to think she's possessed by a demon or something." Alistair fake laughed. I could tell he was concerned in his most sassy way about Nela. Hell, I was too. This was my character! When I made Nela, I made a BAMF while still being sentimental. After Nelaros was killed, I had her all stone cold and utterly serious, while still caring for the people who deserved it. Now she's just...temperamental witch with a b.

"That's OK...I guess?" I shrugged, hating my social awkwardness. My awkwardness left a terribly large hole of an awkward silence between Alistair. I really, really still don't value my existence.

"Well," Alistair clapped his hands, startling me. "I should probably, you know, go get her; calm her a down a bit lest someone else gets an arrow in the chest." He said and I nodded, waving him away. Alistair rushed away, leaving me alone to stare out into the bog like a sappy movie.

"Quite a character, isn't she?" Flemeth's voice cut through the air like a knife. I whirled around and the bog disappeared. Everything disappeared. The whole Korcari Wilds disappeared and replaced with infinite darkness. The only source of light was a spotlight shining down on Flemeth. It was holy looking, which is odd considering that this woman was the Witch of the Wilds.

"Yeah, what ever the hell is wrong with her? When I made her-," Well I don't have a big mouth or anything. I slapped a hand to my mouth and nearly gasped in horror. Why I was being so melodramatic I would never know. ",-I MEAN met! Met! When I met her-"

Flemeth cut me off with a simple hand up and a low chuckle. "You need not hold your tongue, girl. I know you as you know I. Isn't that right, Phoebe?" I stared hard at Flemeth, remembering the face that stared me down in the stormy forest. So it really was Flemeth, _the Flemeth_, who was in my backyard. The one who brought me here.

"You..." I breathed. She nodded once.

"Indeed. Tis I who plucked you from your humble home and dropped you in the Korcari Wilds. How does your experience fare thus far, neverminding that nasty arrow going through you earlier?"

I frowned, gritting through my teeth," Just peachy. Why the hell did you bring me here, anyway?"

Flemeth clasped her hands around a staff that I didn't know she had. "Do you enjoy the arcane arts?" She not only ignored my question, but was pulling some cocky villain act that I'd seen in way too many Disney movies. She removed her hands from the staff and it floated until it was caught in mid-air by the same sort of spotlight engulfing Flemeth and I.

Sensing my silence, she continued. "What of the dagger and bow of a rogue? The sword and shield of a warrior?" She said each weapon and skill, the respected weapon set materialized in front and behind of the floating staff. They hovered, not held by strings or anything.

"I could give you any of these. Any sort of power that you hunger; any specialization you crave. How about the magicka of a mage, or the strength of a warrior, or even the wit of a rogue?" Flemeth raised her hand. My arm was engulfed in a red, shimmery smoke. I looked down and saw a large, silver longsword glinting with my reflection shining. The smoke choked out the sword and was replaced with a small, curved dagger. That too faded, but was replaced with fire burning in the palm of my hand. The small fire burned and licked at my skin, but there was no pain. The image was so hypnotizing that I almost forgot that I was in a video game, trapped against my freewill.

I shook the fire off of my hand. "Cut the crap Flemeth. Tell me why I'm here now, or I'll throw a rock at you." My means of offense were horrible, but it was the best threat I could come up with on the spot. Flemeth's smile fell and the fire stopped spitting. The light engulfing the weapons disappeared and the sets clanked loudly to the ground. I cringed at the sound.

"With an old spell whispered in my ear one eve," said she. She might have been joking: but I don't even know. Her sarcasm and regular talking are so hard to tell the difference from. " Why you're here? That's simple. It has to do with the Warden."

"Nela?"

Flemeth shrugged. "It doesn't matter if you call her Warden or knife ears, as she is still the problem. The Warden's existence is a danger worse than the Blight itself. She will tear apart Ferelden before any Civil War or Archdemon does."

I gasped, "How? What? WHY!?" I was so awfully confused. My Warden? My psychopathic Warden that wanted to kill me was a death omen? A Harbinger of the End? To answer my question, Flemeth reached out and clutched my shoulder. The black area surrounding his flashed with colors and replaced with what looked like an estate room. Nela was standing at one end, bloody and with a longsword in one hand. She was breathing heavily and spitting angry words at the man who appeared to be Vaughn. Suddenly, Vaughn said something and Nela froze. Her stance slackened and she said some more silent words. Shianni was on the ground, a pleading look on her face. This had to be the part where I decided that I wanted to see what would have happened if I took Vaughn's deal.

"The Warden did not avenge the death of her betrothed, or the kidnapping of she and her bridesmaids. Rather, she took the money and stashed it." The scene that Flemeth spoke of played out and I cringed.

"Guess that was my fault, eh?" I gave a cheeky smile and a hesitant laugh. Flemeth glared down at me, but ultimately ignored my words.

"Then, in Ostagar, she killed the wounded soldier and prisoner, yet saved the Mabari. She was rude to the King of Ferelden, and Duncan. Her motives remain unclear and her personality as well, thanks to you. Now that you're here, she has no puppeteer to puppet her strings. She has basically gone mad. She could kill a noble here and save a thief there. Ultimately, her being is a danger to Ferelden." Flemeth explained. I scoffed, crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes.

"Then why the hell did you bring me here in the first place!? Had I stayed safely at home I would have gone through the game the way it was desired! THIS wouldn't happen!" I gestured wildly to the figure of Nela crying into Alistair. He patted her back awkwardly.

"Because," Flemeth faced me. "You, my dear, are special."

I scoffed again, not at all suaded. Me? Special? I was an orphan from christsakes! I hated my life! I wanted to die half the time! I spilled these self-hating threats at my self to Flemeth, heavily stating at the end that I'm really _not_ that special at all.

Flemeth put her hands on my shoulders. "Phoebe, you _are_ special: as strange as that sounds coming from an old hag. But twas you they spoke of in the old legend." Flemeth waved a hand and golden words cut through the thin air.

"Upon the year starting the Fifth Blight, a prophetess of the new world will end our plight," She read. "Now, Prophets exist today just as Griffons do. They're barely even mentioned, let alone remembered. However, I...had a way of poking into your world. I have knowledge that you know how the Blight will end?"

"You mean have I finished the game?"

"Yes."

Well fuck me sideways. Flemeth thinks I've finished the game! As I've stated before, I've only gotten past the Circle of Magi quest. Tumblr and it's dirty, rotten spoilers have ruined a good percentage of surprises for me, but otherwise I have no idea of how to end the game. But, if I say no, Flemeth will probably kill me. If I say yes, I'm (to quote Bilbo Baggins) going on an adventure.

Hmmm...Death...or Adventure? Honesty or a Lie? The answer is abundantly clear.

"Yeah, of course I've finished the game! It was super easy even. That Archdemon had no chance against me and my badass mage!" I lied, putting on a haughty exterior. Flemeth examined me, leaning in a bit closer. I held my breath, trying not to smile or give away my lie.

"If you're lying, I will personally cut your head off and feed it to the darkspawn." She seethed, continuing to stare me down. The sheer ferociousness of her yellow eyes nearly burned my sockets out. I nodded quickly and hoping to god she was an idiot. She snapped back suddenly, her stare toning down.

"Very well. Since you are the prophetess of the legends, you will be the one to end the Blight, regardless of the Warden."

I bit my lip. "Wait a minute...I'm not a Grey Warden! Grey Wardens kill Archdemons, not eighteen year old girls!"

Flemeth chuckled. "Of course, because that is how it is in your homeland, no? When a situation is dire, no one shall face the music when the horn is called? That is not Ferelden. The people here will do anything to protect their land. You'd do the same, I hope. But anyway, there still is Alistair. He is a Grey Warden and as long as you continue through the game, he can kill the Archdemon."

I nodded, but then added, "And Nela. She doesn't have to do shit if it murders Fereldans left and right. But she can still kill the Archdemon...right?" Flemeth gave her signature glare at my stupidity.

"That is where my bargain beings," She paused and conjured up two chairs. Why? I don't know. It didn't matter though, because we were sitting across from each other now anyway. "Nela is incapable of ending the Blight. Your choices in her beginning have corrupted the elf into madness. The only way to ensure that the Archdemon is disposed of and Ferelden saved is to root out the problem."

I gulped. "You don't mean-"

"Yes, I do mean it. You must kill Nela Tabris."

* * *

a/n _**dun dun dun! ah crap i knocked over a glass cup with a spoon in it. the sheer loud sound of it nearly woke me up. nope; still sleepy.**_**_  
_**


	4. Chapter 4: Deal with the Devil

I went quiet. I didn't know what to say, much at all. _Kill _Nela? I couldn't! She was like a child to me; I created her! (As creepy as that sounds.) Therefore, I couldn't just kill her!

"K-Kill? As in make the Grey Warden a No-more-den? You can't possibly expect me to kill her. If I get caught I've got the whole PARTY CAMP up my ass! Not to mention the lack of skills I have in regards to MURDERING!" I threw my hands up in anger. Flemeth merely shrugged. My fingers itched to out the old witch.

"If worse comes to worse, you can put the blade to her skin. Otherwise, you puny girl, you can just put her in harms way - if that's not too hard on poor old you," I glared at her. "Direct her in an enemy's blade until she finally falls to it. That is the easy way. If that doesn't work, you will have to kill her with your own hands." I was shaking at this point.

"D-Do I really have to kill her? Like, is there any other way?" I lean forward, hoping with all of my being that there was. Nela was a terrible, insane person and her death would be satisfactory, considering she put an arrow in me. But...no one deserves to die. No one expect those certain individuals who have really done nothing but sin. I'm no catholic junkie, but I believe in right and wrong.

"There is another way," Flemeth raised a brow with a smirk on her face. My eyes widened and I nearly joked. "You do not have to kill Nela, or put her in harm's way, if you can direct her in the right path. Since you are, in small words, her creator, she has no choice but to listen to you. She may rebel, as any child does, but otherwise she will do nothing but follow. Her views are judged and her actions may beg to commit evil, but if you use harsh enough words, she will follow. If you can persuade her to continue through the events of the structered future, there is hope." Flemeth leaned back. My nose twitched with excitement.

"What do you mean structered future?" I asked.

"By that, I mean the path that lay in front of you. The way it should be. Do not kill important people, or injure their judgement out of character. Do not fall off the path and go rogue. But this is simply the half plan. The other half is to kill Nela. While you can steer her in the right direction, her death is inevitable and must happen if the archdemon is to die."

I bit my lip, worry lining my nerves. "So you're saying...I can steer Nela in the right direction and have her do the right things...but I still have to kill her? How is that another way! I still have to kill the elf for godssakes! And why does it have to be _me_ anyhow!?"

Flemeth flicks her wrist at my worried rambling. Suddenly I can't speak. My words come out as silent breaths. I make a strangled noise and look at Flemeth, my hands on my neck. She laughs.

"You speak too much and ask too many questions. I simply wanted to get your attention by stating that the other way is another way. The main goal is to kill her. Putting her in the right path will add longevity to your date to get the deed done. You yourself have to kill her because she is your creation, and only the creator can kill their creation. If anyone else does, it won't classify as a killing, and only as a coma inducing attack or a knockout. Does that not happen in the game?" I nodded. Flemeth laughed again, her eyes narrowing as she eyed me.

"You sound much better without vocal cords. Perhaps I should get rid of them permanantely?" She smirked and I nearly had my eyes bulging out of my head. Flemeth laughed again. She stood up and approached me.

Once she was nearly in front of me, she held up one finger. "If you do this deed to Ferelden...I will grant you eternal happiness. Beauty. Wealth. Anything that you want in exchange for Nela's life. Perhaps even the life of your family? I understand they were killed so many years ago, yet the memory of the message that they died reaching you is still so fresh," She noted my silence, aside from the forced one of course. "Ah. So I have touched a soft spot. Kill Nela and you get your family. I can guarantee it."

Now I'm no idiot. I've seen enough episodes of Supernatural, read enough Harry Potter books and etc for me to know that bringing people back to life was impossible without a deal, or dire consequences. I knew Flemeth was an abomination (but more like something worse), so she must be the Dragon Age version of a posessed person like in Supernatural. She seems powerful enough, so she must be equivalent to someone like Crowley, or even an evil Michael. As the story for Flemeth goes, she was really upset about the brutual murder of her lover and seeked vengeance against her husband. Rather than a simple spirit that she conjured, the thing took a foothold inside of her and warped her into a badass abomination that had slew the strongest of her husband's men. Clearly, this witch with a b is b for bad news. I shouldn't be making a deal with her. I hope it's not like SPN, though. I don't want to kiss the hag.

My vocal cords were restored when I made a noise. I looked up at Flemeth. Her hand was held out, waiting for the exchange.

"How do I know you'll hold up your end of the bargain?" I cautiously inquired. Flemeth's face darkened, but she let out a slow laugh.

"You do not. I could easily slit your throat tomorrow, or do so many things worse than death. But, I won't. And that is because we all have a common goal. We want our home. I have my own reasons, but Ferelden - the world, even - doesn't want to lose their happy little seats. You want your home, as in family and how everything was before. I promise you that if you withold your end of the deal, I will as well." Flemeth's hand was still lingering in front of my face. It was kill or be killed, as it seemed.

Reluctantly, I stretched my hand out and shook Flemeth's. Her grip suddenly resembled that of a block of stone. I gasped in pain, but she seemed unmoved. The stone grip started to grow hotter, and hotter and finally it was burning my flesh and I couldn't do anything about it. I bit my tongue trying to mask the pain. When Flemeth released, my hand had a brand on it. On the meaty part below the thumb, was a symbol. When I ran my fingers over it, there was almost an electric feel to it. It didn't burn anymore, but it felt like mint on my tongue or rosemary: something of the like. I looked up at the Witch of the Wilds, waiting for the next move.

"Then our deal is set," She said, startling me a bit. "You kill Nela one way or another and I reunite you with your family." Her eyes suddenly bore into mine. The yellow melted into a soft, white light. Everything was engulfed by the white light and a searing pain raced across my head. The white grew brighter and brighter until there was a snapping noise, and everything was black.


	5. Chapter 5: Crazy Girl

(a/n: bet you thought i was dead)

I came to numbly. Everything was blurry, but I managed to make out two heads over me and a pacing figure somewhere over. As my vision cleared, I saw that the first head was Nela and the other Alistair. So, due to logical reasoning, I assumed Morrigan was the one angrily pacing.

"WAKE UP!" Nela screeched, whipping out her hand and slapping it across my face. The pain was dull, but quickly spread into a searing, hot flash. It burned up my cheek and out, obviously forming into the shape of a thin hand print. My jaw even felt a bit slack after it. Alistair glared, snaking out his own hands and diving at Nela. He seemed to tackle her, I didn't know because I didn't want to sit up. My head hurt like a witch and my face now matched that pain.

She was lucky I was incapacitated.

By incapacitated, I meant I was on the ground. Again. It seemed that every time Flemeth did something to me, it caused me to be knocked out. Was it because she was speaking to me through my mind? Or because she was a asshat who liked ruining other people's judgement of me?

I heard Nela squealing in annoyance and pain, while Alistair was grumbling and mumbling for her to calm down. Morrigan noticed me awake and tapped one foot impatiently. I sighed, rolling my eyes painfully and slowly sitting up. Instantly, a wave of nausea rolled through me. I swayed, tempted to fall back again. But I didn't. I brought up the hand that had been marked and placed it on my forehead, hoping to calm myself. I drew my hand down, staring at the symbol. It was curved, almost like a bird in flight. below it were three stars, all the same size and distance. Above the bird was a crescent moon on its back, with one more tiny star in the dip. I didn't know what it mean, but it sure as hell was pretty.

Finally, I properly stood up. I was a bit wobbly, and it would have been nice to have someone to brace me, but I managed anyway. Alistair was still wrestling Nela on the ground, trying to restrain her. She was squirming like a little big and I was tempted to throw a rock at her, but I restrained myself. Violence led to nothing. Yet.

"FINE!" I heard her scream, throwing Alistair off of her. He landed painfully on his back, I could hear the wind being knocked out of him. Nela leaped to her feet and crouched, staring me up and down.

"You're awake! How's your face? Sorry, but that's usually how I wake people up when they've passed out. You took a nasty spill, Phoebe!" Nela lunged at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She hugged me intently; nearly squeezing the life out of me. I felt my toes leave the ground for a split second, making me squirm. Nela noticed this and backed off, grinning like an idiot. Then she whirled around, barking at Alistair, "get up you lazy oaf! We've got to get a move on! Mori said Flemyfloo wants to talk to us before we go!"

Morrigan whirled to face the smaller girl, her face full of malice. "I thought," she spat, "I told you not to call me by that _ridiculous_ name!"

Nela only laughed. "You did, Mori, but I chose not to listen. You're just too adorable!" Nela squealed and Morrigan squeezed her hands into tight fists. Her knuckles were as white as paper. Morrigan almost growled at Nela, but rather stormed back into the hut, slamming the door as she did so. By this time, Alistair had stumbled to his feet. I trained my eyes on Nela, watching her watch him. I could tell by the twitch in her fingers and the crazy look in her eyes that she was considering punching him or kicking him in the stomach/leg. Before she could leap, however, Flemeth strode from somewhere and approached us.

"Please excuse Morrigan's behavior. She can be a bit…" The witch's lips curled into a smile, "_sensitive._" Flemeth broke into a short, curt laugh. Nela chuckled as well, while I seriously contemplated killing the girl now, instead of lengthening out the bargain like Flemeth said.

"Thank you, Flemeth," a wise, intelligent voice said. Alistair and I jerked our heads to see that it wasn't a philosopher talking, but Nela. "for correcting my misdemeanor and saving young Phoebe's life. We are in your debt." Damn. She was nuts.

"Ah, yes: the young, injured robin. Phoebe is her name?" Flemeth caught my gaze. She acted like this didn't know me! I laughed, slapping my knee dramatically. The Witch stared, not at all moved by my laughing.

"Ah, Flem, you're a riot. Of course it's me! Why act like we don't know each other when we really do!" I giggled. Alistair was staring at me like I was ballistic. Nela was ballistic, staring at me with her crazed expression. Her tiny features were contorted into a mask of humor. A really scary and morbid mask.

Flemeth scoffed. "Pardon yourself, girl. Do not talk as if we are the best of friends. I barely know you." I pouted. Flemeth had to be lying, or something.

Then, magically, it hit me. She must want to keep our deal a secret - which is no surprise, considering a lunatic's life is on the line - so that no one knows that we spoke prior. If there was knowledge of us conspiring against Nela, or knowing each other beforehand, it would cause alarm and suspicion.

"Oh, right. My bad...Uh, yeah I'm Phoebe. Nice to meet you,_ Flemeth_. Thanks for saving my_ life_." I winked at her and she gave a disgruntled look of distaste at me. I felt deflated. People usually didn't give me that look unless they hated me, thought I was annoying, or were people who I thought were my friends.

"I am starting to regret saving your life, outsider. Don't make me take it back." Flemeth growled, her yellow eyes narrowing like a cat's. I frowned at her piss-poor attitude, and was about to fire something back at her, but Alistair placed a hand in front of me to halt me in my rage.

"Anyway," He glared at me. "We should probably get going. To Lothering. We've already waited too many days. From all of us, in some sort of way or another, we are entirely thankful." I felt compelled to clap at his effort to be valiant and just. It worked, for the most part. If it wasn't for Nela's damn snickering, his speech might have made a difference. But no, the little fuck trumpet was tooting away as Alistair tried to be civil with the Witch of the Wilds. I really wanted a rock to throw at her.

Alistair placed a fist over his heart and bowed, which I guess was some sort of respect dance. Flemeth scoffed again, waving her hand nonchalantly. " Save your bowing for people of higher power. They will appreciate it more than I."

Apparently I missed the 'introduction to plot' part where the Warden and Alistair decided they would round the troops and go to Eamon for help against Loghain. I'd done that part before, so I wasn't too left out. But it might have been fun. I'm guessing they were heading to Lothering when I dropped in and was shot in the chest. I'm also guessing that they brought me back to Flemeth's hut...and stayed, too. Wow. They actually stayed. They didn't drop me off and leave or anything. They..._stayed_.

Morrigan came from the hut, a pouch of things on her back. All four of us head out, Morrigan in the lead with Nela following. We trampled through the woods, evading the horde of darkspawn. I hadn't seen one up close, except for the wicked camera angles, but I could smell them. I didn't know they were so...rancid. It was like a dead body was broiled in the sun and then fried till it was proper ashes. Then, the ashes were pissed on and dumped in the trash. Then turned into a perfume. It invaded my nostrils, almost making me gag. I pinched my nose as we trudged along, breathing through my nose and hoping the smell would pass.

All of a sudden, though, Nela came to a halt. Alistair crashed into her and I into him. Morrigan stopped a few feet of head, turning around and sticking her hip out, grumbling to herself. Nela turned to me, sticking out a finger.

"Hey, who said you could follow?" She asked. I furrowed my brows.

"I vaguely assumed, due to the fact that a) I'm not going to stay in the middle of the Korcari Wilds and wait for the darkspawn to gobble me up, and b) I know my way around most of Ferelden." I stated, tilting my chin up haughtily. Nela snorted.

"Yeah, and so does he," She jerked a thumb at Alistair. "We've got a map, idiot. We don't need you."

My cheeks burned as I felt embarrassed. Why was she being an ass all of a sudden? Oh, right. It was because she was a _fucking monster_!

"I'm still coming, whether you like it or not. You can't just dump me here to die. The darkspawn will literally have my legs for breakfast and save my eyeballs for dessert." I pleaded, but Nela shook her head.

"How is that my issue, Red? Oh, right, it's not." I felt my face flush again. I clenched my fists.

"Yes it is, because…" Oh, shit. I didn't have a good explanation. But, I needed to go! I needed to make sure Nela put her plans on the right track and eventually died!

"What? Darkspawn got your tongue? Let's go guys." Nela hissed, shoving me back. I was caught off-guard and tumbled backward into the bushes. Thorns scratched my skin, and I winced aloud. Alistair turned quickly to look back at me. He looked at Nela, then me. Finally, his good-will seemed to get the better of him and he came stumbling to my side. He mumbled if I was alright and I nodded, brushing the dirt off of me. Nela was furious, it seemed.

"Alistair! You were supposed to LEAVE her! That's why I PUSHED her!" Nela hissed. Alistair grimaced.

"Yes, I'm quite aware," He countered. "But that's not right. How would you feel if you were left to be darkspawn chow, eh? Not so good, huh? We have to let Phoebe come with us. It is what's right." He said slowly, controlling his breathing. Nela was silent. She didn't move for a whole minute. Then, she blinked.

"Well," she said. "Fine. Fine. FINE. FINE! SHE CAN STAY! BUT YOU, MISTER ARE TAKING THE BLAME FOR ANYTHING THIS NUGHUMPER DOES WRONG." Nela stalked over to Alistair and dug her finger into his chest. He glared down at her, but didn't say anything. Nela giggled, shoving him a bit before turning on her heel and starting forward again.  
Angstingly, I dug my hand into the pockets of my jeans. "Bitch…" I mumbled under my breath. Nela froze. I stared in horror, waiting for her to do something. Instead of hitting me or something, she jumped over to Alistair and punched him square in the face. She must have punched him hard, because the taller, more muscular man nearly went sprawling. His legs wobbled and he nearly fell. I gasped, rushing over to his side. Nela cackled, continuing to walk forward again.

I cursed under my breath, both at her and for what was going on. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry...I didn't mean...do you need anything? I can get bandages." I saw his lip was bleeding and plump and blue. Alistair waved me off, standing up all by himself. He sighed, shivering a bit.

"I'm fine. But some alone time would be nice, thanks." He mumbled, dashing off after Nela and Morrigan. I sighed, crunching the twigs as I followed behind.

This wasn't fair. Nela was a bitch, Alistair was being beaten and I was stuck in a death deal with the devil. But then again…

My eyes flashed to the complete look of vulnerability and pain on Alistair's face when he was struck. How upset he was, so weak and hurt while he was sitting there, numb with pain and fear. I bet he was afraid of her. That's not what it's supposed to be like. It's not Warden abuse. It's Warden friendship. Wynne would not have that.

I now knew why Flemeth wanted that crazy fucknut dead.


End file.
